


Imagine Us

by pearconfident



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 01:20:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29055792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pearconfident/pseuds/pearconfident
Summary: No one gets under Hermione's skin quite like the Head Boy, Tom Riddle. But what happens when a few weeks before the annual Yule Ball, he pulls her into a classroom and asks her a very unexpected question?
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Tom Riddle
Comments: 7
Kudos: 144





	Imagine Us

“Granger.”

Hermione had to physically bite her tongue to keep herself from snapping back at him.

“ _Leave me alone_ , Tom.” Her jaw was tight, and her words ground out slowly. Those around them could feel the tension radiating off of her in waves, and the crowd seemed to disperse quickly.

“Gran-“

Hermione kept walking, intent on making her way back to Gryffindor tower without having to talk to him. They may be Head Boy and Head Girl, but she tried to avoid him as much as possible outside of their duties.

He was far too _much_.

“I need to spe-“

His words were yet again drowned out as she continued her determined march through the castle. The halls were quiet now, and the echo of her steps ushered her alone.

“Hermione.” His voice was closer now and much lower. Tom was right behind her now; she could feel his breath on her neck and the heat of his body on her back.

He didn’t give her time to respond, instead pulling her roughly into an empty classroom beside them. Hermione was cursing herself for taking this shortcut; there were fewer places for him to get her alone if she’d just taken the long way. But now, here they were, in a dark classroom staring at each other.

“What’s so _important,_ Tom?”

“Are you really going to the Yule Ball with _Weasley_?” The disgust was evident in his voice, but Hermione wasn’t quite sure why he was so upset.

“What?” She asked him, a bit confused, “Well, yes, I am.”

“No, you’re _not_.”

“Excuse me?” He was ridiculous, thinking he could tell her what she could and couldn’t do. They aren’t even friends, they barely see one another alone, and he was really starting to weigh on her last nerve.

“You’re not going with Weasley to the Yule Ball,” Tom spoke like he was talking to a child, laying out every detail for her. It infuriated her, and the arrogant smirk on his face made her blood boil.

“I will go without whomever I please, you git.”

“You’re going with _me._ ”

This time when she opened her mouth to snipe back at him, nothing came out; she just stood there open-mouthed staring at him. Hermione had no idea what was going on now; everything that had happened since he pulled her in here wasn’t making sense.

“Say _yes_.” He wasn’t asking her; he was telling her.

Hermione had never been scared of Tom, not like the other students. Maybe it was because she had always thought that she could hold her own with him. But now, alone in this classroom, she was starting to wonder if she was out of her depth.

“No.”

His eyes got darker, though she wasn’t even sure that was possible. He looked like a shark now, cold eyes tracking her in the dim light. Hermione could feel his anger now, and the cold knot in her stomach kept her rooted to the ground.

Tom said nothing, but he started to move towards her. Without thinking, without reaching for her wand, Hermione launched a curse at him without even speaking. And not one they were taught in their classes; she threw something much, much darker.

As soon as she did, she regretted it, waiting for its impact on his body. She’d be expelled for doing magic like that, and that shameful feeling was worse than the fear she’d been filled with a moment earlier. But the impact never came. Tom waved the curse away, just as quietly and easily as she’d thrown it. She could see the interest in his eyes, the way they shined while he appraised her. He seemed to be fixing his interpretation of her, and from the satisfied smirk on his face, he was happy with what he found.

“That’s very _dark_ magic.”

“Tom-“

“Where did you learn a thing like that?” He walked towards her, but the predatory gleam in his eyes was gone now. Hermione just stood and watched him as he came closer. “And you did it nonverbally, _wandlessly_. You are so _very_ interesting _,_ Hermione.”

“Tom-“ She tried again, but her attempt was feeble, and much like her curse, Tom waived her comments away.

“Come with me to the ball.”

“Why?”

He looked down at her; his dark eyes once more seemed to be assessing her. They were closer now, and she could feel his breathe on her face as he contemplated her questions. She hated how good he looked and smelt; she wanted to hate him. She did, in a way, but he was also fascinating. A dark puzzle she’d been slowly trying to solve since they’d started working together this year.

“You’ve never taken a girl to the ball before, why now? Why me?” She asked again, insistent on getting an answer. Hermione hated to admit she was considering his offer, but she wanted to make sure it wasn’t some evil machination before she actually agreed.

“You’re not like other girls, Hermione.” She snorted at the cliché; he couldn’t _honestly_ think that that line would work on her.

“Don’t be stupid.” His voice was cold and hard now, angry once more, “We are the only ones who this education isn’t bloody wasted on. We are powerful, Hermione. Imagine what we could do to this world _together_.”

“I thought you were inviting me to the ball, not asking me to take over the world with you.”

“Ball first, we can negotiate about the world later.”

She laughed, and the self-satisfied smirk on his face only made her laughed harder. Tom could actually be pleasant to be around, _sometimes_. Everything was a contest with him, a competition he had to win. Hermione had hated it at first, but she was starting to see how it could be fun. And he was right; they were the only ones who could actually keep up with each other, something she hated to admit she found refreshing and invigorating. If there was one thing Hermione loved, it was a good round of academic sparring, something she and Tom regularly did in their classes, much to their Professors' annoyance.

“Fine.”

His eyes quickly lit up before he schooled his expression to impassivity once more. Hermione didn’t have time to think about how her chest swelled at the sight of delight in his eyes for that brief moment because he was kissing her within a second.

Tom had his fingers threaded into her curls, holding her head as he kissed her lips. He wasn’t sloppy and over-excited like other boys, but he held her to him like he was scared she’d disappear. He kissed her gently, and she wondered if it was the first kiss he’d ever had. It didn’t take her long to relax against his chest, kissing him back.

Hermione hadn’t been expecting it, and judging from the look on Tom’s face when they broke apart, he wasn’t either. They just looked at each other as if they were waiting for something.

They didn’t have time to find out. There was a bang from the hallway, the tell-tale sound of a spell gone wrong, accompanied by a loud shout. Both went into response mode, though they gave each other lingering glances as they made their way out of the abandoned classroom.

Hermione wasn’t sure what had just happened, but she wasn’t going to pretend she wasn’t a little bit excited about where it might take her.


End file.
